Nightmare
by Squirrel Stone
Summary: Sam has a nightmare, but could it hold to be a bit truer than she thought? Will she live long enough to find out?
1. Nightmare

I do not, nor will I ever, own Danny Phantom.

* * *

Sam Manson awoke from her dream with a gasp. She blinked a few times to correct her vision. "No," she mumbled. "No, no, no, no, no. It's impossible. That was before you even moved to Amity Park."

She tiredly got out of bed and put on her, ironically, pink bunny slippers, which were worn out from overuse. She stretched her arms back, flexing her muscles and folding the black fabric of her silk nightgown. She picked up the black analog clock and pressed a button, allowing an eerie green light to flood from the top of the inside of the clock.

11:58 p.m.

Sam sighed and let her head hang for a moment. She finally lifted it and ran her hand through her messy, raven hair. She grabbed a purple ponytail band and tied it around all of her hair instead of just the top half of it like she usually did. She took a silver clip off of the black nightstand and pulled away a few stray strands of hair. She half-walked, half-stumbled to the bathroom, her body telling her to go back to sleep. But still she walked on.

Once she arrived at the off-white door, she opened it, not bothering to knock. She turned on the light, but quickly regretted her decision. She squinted angrily at the fluorescent lights, trying to adjust to the horrid flickering. She was, on the other hand, suddenly glad that she had put on the slippers, for she could feel the cold radiating from the white and blue tiles on the floor. She approached the porcelain sink and turned on the white knob labeled 'cold' in black letters and capitals. She ran her vampire-pale hands under the water, cupping them so she could splash the water on her face.

She sighed when the water hit her face, feeling herself finally be able to relax after her nightmare. She turned off the water and grabbed the pale blue face towel from the side of the sink to dry her face off. She listened silently to the analog clock ticking on the wall to her right, her hands on either side of the sink, refusing to look up. She had her tired eyes closed and was about to fall asleep standing up. She continued listening to the clock ticking in the background.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Tick

It suddenly stopped.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked up into the spotless mirror. In the doorframe, there was a blonde girl in a pink spaghetti strap sundress who looked to be in her early teens- not even old enough to drive. The girl was laughing and smiling.

Sam whipped around to face the girl, but she was no longer there. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, insisting to herself that she was merely hallucinating. Sure, that probably meant that she had to go to a therapist again, but it was better than the girl in the doorframe being real.

The clock was ticking again.

Sam calmly turned around to the mirror and let out a gasp. There, as her reflection, was the blonde girl, but this time, she did not look friendly. This time, she looked angry- furious. "I'm coming," the blonde said darkly, and Sam jumped back in surprise, falling to the floor. She scrambled away on her butt, trying desperately to get away from the mirror. She looked fearfully over to the clock.

12:01 a.m.

Sam slowly stood up and looked into the mirror, afraid that she might see the girl again. She sighed when the girl was not there, only her own reflection. She began backing up slowly, never taking her eyes off of the mirror. She didn't want to look away and give the girl the chance to come back. She continued walking backwards until she was safely out of the room. She didn't even bother turning off the lights. She closed her eyes and turned around, calmly walking back to her room as if nothing had happened.

She stepped into her room and walked over to her black-sheeted bed, taking off her bunny slippers on the side of the bed. She sat down on her bed and got under the covers, trying to pretend the episode mere minutes ago hadn't happed. But her eyes stayed wide-open, looking around her room in fear. _I've gotta redecorate,_ she thought as her eyes were drawn to things such as a dragon and a poster of a gothic- quite scary looking- band. She slowly rolled over in her queen bed, eyes closed. She opened her eyes again and saw the blonde lying next to her.

Sam screamed and fell out of bed. She scrambled to her feet and ran to the door. She ripped open the obsidian-colored door and ran right into her father. Her rapid brething turned into scared, sobbing breaths as she fell to the floor.

"Sam? Samantha, what's wrong?" Thurston Manson asked, squating down so he could meet his daughter's eyes.

Sam looked up, her eyes bloodshot, and said, "I saw her, Dad."

* * *

Mwa-ha-ha! I'm evil. And no, I will not tell you what Sam's nightmare was about. I'm debating about whether or not I should turn this into a full-fledged fic. Wow, I decided to do some editing on this and turned one paragraph (about five or six sentences) into six, not including the whole "tick tock" deal. Please review! I will give you DP cookies (haha, I made more from my home ec accident (for those of you who don't know, I was supposed to double the recipe, but I accidentally tripled it)).


	2. Insane

I do not, nor will I ever, own Danny Phantom.

* * *

Okay, okay, so I'm guessing that because of the reviews and alerts I've gotten that you all want me to continue this. So… surprise! I don't own DP, but I do own the girl in the pink dress. Nope, I'm not even gonna be stupid enough to tell you that she's- ha, nice try. I'm not telling! You'll just have to read.

* * *

Chapter 2

Sam nearly screamed as someone put their hand on her shoulder. Instead, she resorted to jumping out of her seat and nearly flipping her 'attacker' over her shoulder.

"Ow!" Danny's surprised voice was enough to pull her out of her violent, scared trance. "Sam, are you okay?" he asked.

"Uh… I-I'm fine," Sam replied, nervously straightening her plaid skirt. "I just had a nightmare last night and have been a bit… jumpy ever since."

"Jumpy?" Danny asked doubtfully, his voice full of concern. "Sam, you nearly just broke my arm." Danny placed his free hand on his injured left arm, feeling the bone underneath. "What's wrong?"

Should she tell him? No. It was too dangerous. Sure, he was half ghost himself, but this was… different. The ghost she had seen… heck, she wasn't even sure the girl was a ghost. Maybe she did need to go to a therapist. "Nothing," she eventually replied after much thought. She couldn't let him know. If the ghost was real, he'd be in danger, and if she wasn't, Danny would worry about her mental health. "Uh… I've gotta go," she whispered, headed towards the door to the girls' bathroom. She squatted down and checked underneath all the stalls to make sure know one was there. When she discovered no one else was there, she walked back over to the door. She placed her hand on the lock and turned it until she heard a satisfying _click_. She removed her hand from the silver, metallic lock and walked into the center of the bathroom.

She swallowed nervously and began speaking. "I-I know you're here… that is, if you're real. What do you want from me? Why are you here? Why-" Sam was interrupted by an exploding sound outside. She fumbled to run to the light tan door and unlock it. She threw the door open to see Danny fighting the Fright Knight.

"Where's a pumpkin when you need one!" Danny yelled in aggravation. Sam couldn't do much for him there. It was March, not November. She ran to the cafeteria to see if they had anything of use. Some of the food was actually pretty good- as discuses to throw at the ghosts. By then they were usually grossed out enough for Danny to have some time to get out a Fenton Thermos and get rid of the ghost.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," Sam muttered to herself in the red-and-white colored kitchen. She looked in a cabinet and found a pumpkin. A very gross, very rotted pumpkin, but a pumpkin. She grabbed it and began running back to Danny, and just as the Fright Knight was going to stab Danny, she jumped in the way and moved the pumpkin so that the sword stabbed into it.

"NOOOO!" the Fright Knight objected, though his essence was absorbed into the pumpkin just the same.

"Thanks, Sam," Danny said. "If it wasn't for you, I'd probably have been shish kababed there." Sam set the pumpkin down and Danny leaned in slightly as if he were going to kiss her, but was cut off by the bell. "Uh… we should probably get to class," he said nervously.

"Uh… y-yeah," Sam replied, bending her head down momentarily in thought. "See you around."

"Yeah," Danny replied, transforming back to human and running down the hall to his class.

Sam turned around to walk to her class as well, but ran right into someone. "Oh, I'm sor-" Sam stopped when she found herself looking at the blonde from the night before. "No," Sam muttered. "You're not real; it's all in my head."

"Oh, I'm very real, Sam," the blonde replied. "And that fight was far too easy for you, don'tcha think?"

Sam began walking backwards, afraid of what the blonde was going to do. Suddenly, the blonde grabbed her and literally threw her down the hall, Sam only stopping when her back came into contact with the lockers at the other end. She weakly fell to the ground, groaning in pain. The blonde smirked as she approached Sam, though Sam could only see a hazy figure in pink. The blonde looked as if she were about to punch Sam, but something surprised her and she disappeared.

Before she knew it, a crowd surrounded Sam, trying to see if she was okay. She felt some sort of strange, sticky substance pooling around her head. Her last conscious thought was someone putting two fingers to her neck, checking her pulse.

* * *

Sam woke up in a hospital bed, her parents sitting in chairs and looking very nervous. She nervously grabbed at the white sheets, her black-painted nails disappearing under the fabric. She blinked a few times to get used to the light and then croaked out, "Ugh, what the heck happened?"

"Sammykins!" Sam's mother exclaimed, hugging her daughter tightly.

"Mom… can't… breathe…" Sam choked out.

"Sorry," Pamela Manson said, releasing her daughter.

"Uh… it wasn't just any ghost that did this to me," Sam said nervously. "_She_ attacked me."

"Sam, we've talked about this," Thurston Manson replied. "It's only in your head."

Sam sighed nervously, grabbing on tighter to the blankets. "I guess you're right," Sam eventually replied. "It's just in my head…" Somehow, the statement seemed as if she were trying to convince herself of it. She nervously leaned her head back on the bed and checked the clock on the table beside the hospital bed. It was about six p.m., but Sam felt like falling asleep right then and there.

* * *

_Sam's Dream_

Sam walked around the barren wasteland, trying to find her way out. "LET ME OUT!" she demanded. "I KNOW YOU'RE BEHIND THIS!" Sam hit her hands against what seemed to be a wall, but instead, said wall electrocuted her and threw her back into the center of the island she was standing on.

* * *

_Outside of Sam's Dream_

Many doctors ran into Samantha Manson's room when they heard the screaming teen. She was thrashing around in her bed, screaming things like, "YOU'LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS!" and "LET ME OUT!" It took about three doctors to hold her down, but just before they could inject her with a sedative, her eyes snapped open and she wriggled out of the doctors' grips, even punching one in the nose. She began running, but the door was blocked off, and someone was even smart enough to stand in front of the window. That left her to be surrounded in the corner by her bed, still resisting the injection. All of the doctors reacted by grabbing her and forcing her to stay still as she was injected with the clear serum, which quickly overtook her consciousness.

* * *

MWA HA HA! I decided not to tell you just yet. If you think you know, please don't say anything. I want it to be a surprise for the people who don't know yet. Hehe. I'm drugged up on Novocain (don't worry; it was prescription). And yep, everyone thinks Sam's crazy. Mwa ha ha!


	3. Doctor

I don't own DP.

Okay, it's a short chapter, but you do get to find out who Blondie is.

* * *

Chapter 3

Sam took a few deep breaths, trying desperately to calm her nerves. She tilted her head back on the purple-blue couch in the room and swallowed nervously. She lifted her left arm to her face to look at the purple spider-watch she had on. It was 8:59. She only had one minute until she was trapped with no escape. Her eyes darted around, looking for a possible way to escape. There was a small window, but it was latched tightly shut. There was always the door, but her parents would probably be right outside to make sure she didn't try to leave. She heard the oak door behind her shut, and she didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"Hello, Miss Manson," the person behind her said kindly.

"Hello, Dr. Spearman," Sam replied, though the politeness was clearly forced. But then again, who could blame her? She was being forced to come here by her parents, and they were going to be talking about an issue that was long thought buried.

Dr. Spearman sat down in an official-looking chair across from the couch Sam was lying on. "Now," the female psychologist said, "you said you had a nightmare, and that's when this all started, correct?"

"Yeah," Sam replied without emotion.

"Care to elaborate?" Dr. Spearman asked.

"No."

"Come on, Sam, we can't get anywhere if you don't talk about this… episode," Dr. Spearman prodded.

Sam sighed in irritation, looking at her watch again. Only 9:01. She still had fifty-nine joyous more minutes to go. She leaned her head back and took a breath. If she was going to be stuck here, she might as well talk. "I… I don't really remember what the nightmare was about, but when I woke up, I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. When I looked up, I saw her in the doorway."

"Did she look…" Dr. Spearman paused, trying to come up with the right words.

"Normal?" Sam offered. "Of course she did; she looked like she did when she was fourteen. Then, when I turned around, she was gone. When I turned back to the mirror, she was there, _as my reflection_, and said that she was coming, and then I fell backward to the floor. She looked the exact same." Sam nearly shuddered at the memory.

"And in your bedroom? What about then?" Dr. Spearman asked.

"I just rolled over in my bed, and there she was," Sam replied. "So I screamed and left the room and ran right into my dad."

"Hm…" Dr. Spearman said in thought. "Were there any other incidents before this?"

"Yeah, back in Minnesota," Sam said. "But that was just dreams. Theses are… _hauntings_." She looked at Dr. Spearman and said, "I'm not crazy."

"No one said you were," Dr. Spearman replied.

"No, but you're all thinking it," Sam hissed, cutting Dr. Spearman off before she could say anything more.

"No one said you were, and no one thinks you are," Dr. Spearman elaborated.

"Those doctors who had to hold me down would beg to differ," Sam laughed slightly.

"Sam, all of this has probably been brought on by stress. Now repeat after me, and just say this whenever you think you see her," Dr. Spearman said. "I am not responsible for my sister's death."

Sam sighed. "I am not responsible for my sister's death."

* * *

See, I told you it was a short chapter, but I kind of wanted to end it with Sam saying who Blondie was, and I couldn't do that much elaboration. Please review.


	4. Solved

Chapter 4

"So, sis," a voice smirked, "what do you think? That I'm not real?"

"You're not," Sam replied dully, glancing over to the passenger's seat in her car. "You're just a figment of my imagination."

"Have fun convincing yourself of that," the blonde replied.

"Miranda, leave me alone," Sam ordered.

"Why should I?" the blonde, apparently named Miranda, asked. "It's fun scaring you: appearing in mirrors, in the back seat of your car, across the street. Man, you sure do scare easy." She snapped her fingers and disappeared.

"I should," Sam said, checking the rearview mirror and seeing Miranda in the back seat. "Miranda, you've been dead for years."

"I've gotten over it," Miranda replied.

"So you are a ghost," Sam stated.

"Not quite," Miranda answered, reappearing in the passenger's seat. "I'm mainly here to make your life a living hell."

"But Mir, _I_ didn't kill you," Sam reasoned. "Why are you so pissed off at me?"

"I'm pissed because you know who killed me," Miranda explained.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam huffed, looking over to Miranda again briefly. "I wasn't there when you were killed. I just found you. I cried for weeks."

"So?" Miranda asked. "You still _know_ who killed me. You didn't have to be there to know."

"I'm telling you, I don't know what you're talking about," Sam said, her anger rising. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Meh, just thought I'd distract you long enough for this," Miranda smiled.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned to see a smirking Miranda. Suddenly, her body lurched. She didn't have time to turn and see what was happening as her car flipped over. It was about this time that Sam was starting to regret having what she was sure was the _only_ compact car in the city. And the trouble with compact cars is that when they were in an accident, the bigger car won. Compact cars most certainly _not_ the bigger car.

She looked over to the passenger seat to see Miranda unharmed with a smirk on her face. "Bye-bye, Sammy-sister," she smiled before disappearing. Sam turned her head weakly back to the front window- or what was left of it- in hopes of preventing further injury. She felt something warm on her face, similar to when Miranda attacked her at the school. She tasted something sticky and salty in her mouth with just a hint of bitterness. A spark of orange entered her view, and Sam could tell her car was on fire. She had seen enough cop shows to know what happens if a car catches fire. Her mind was slowly starting to go numb as the door of her crushed car was ripped away. Danny- in Phantom form- picked her up out of the car and carried her out of the fire to an ambulance.

"You're gonna be okay, Sam," Danny promised as Sam succumbed to the darkness.

* * *

Sam woke up in a hospital bed (she was beginning to understand why Tucker hated hospitals), Danny holding her right hand.

"Hey, Sam," Danny said calmly with a smile. "You feeling any better?"

"If by 'better', you mean 'like I've been hit by a bus', then yes," Sam smirked. She looked around, checking to make sure no one else was in the room. "Danny, I need your help."

"With what?" Danny asked.

"Solving a murder."

"See?" a voice smiled. Sam looked over to see Miranda standing in the corner of the room, a smirk on her face. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

* * *

Danny and Sam walked through the woods outside Amity Park. "And _how_ do you think searching a forest in Amity Park will help you solve a murder from Minnesota?" Danny asked.

"I just do!" Sam called back. They continued marching on until they hit a slightly open area. Sam bent down and picked up a playing card. "Uh-oh…" she mumbled. "Danny, we've gotta leave now."

"Now why would I let you do that?" a new voice asked. Sam turned around to see a boy about twenty-years old- the same age Miranda would have been if she hadn't died.

"Ace… you killed her?" Sam said in shock. "Why? She was your best friend."

"Are you kidding me?" Ace asked, playing with a lighter. Sam looked around her briefly and saw that she and Danny were surrounded by a ring of gasoline. Ace threw the lighter to the ground, and the ring formed around them, slowly creeping closer thanks to the leaves on the ground. Over the crackling fire, Ace called, "Your sister… heh, I actually loved her. Tried to kiss her, but she pulled away from me and fell down."

"I found her with stab wounds, you bastard," Sam hissed angrily. "You killed her."

"So what if I did?" Ace asked. "It's not like you and your little boyfriend are ever gonna be able to tell anyone."

"Wanna bet?" Danny asked, using his ice powers to extinguish the fire, then freeze Ace himself. Then, to my surprise, he pulled out a tape recorder and pressed the stop button. He rewound it and played back the previous conversation. When the tape stopped, Danny said, "I've been keeping it so I could get blackmail on Vlad. Nice to know it came in handy here."

* * *

"_And finally, after six years, the murder of Miranda Manson has been solved thanks to- believe it or not- the victim's sister claiming Miranda's ghost was there guiding her. Now, in all my days as a reporter, I have never heard anything stranger, but nothing is stranger than the truth. This is Alexandra Lawrence, signing off,_" the CNN reporter said.

Sam smiled at Danny. "It's good to know she's in a better place," Danny said.

"Not quite yet," a new voice said, and Sam's head whipped around to see Miranda, though Danny looked at Sam oddly. "He can't see me," Miranda explained. "In fact, you're one of the few people who can see ghosts like me. I'm proud of you, sis. You need to use your new power to help others. Just don't show them fear." Miranda wrinkled her nose jokingly before relaxing and placed her hands in her jeans. "You can do it, Sammy-sister. I know you can."

Sam laughed slightly at the old nickname. She stood up, walked over to Miranda, and gave her a hug. "Say 'hi' to Grandpa for me," Sam smiled before Miranda began walking away, fading into nothing.

* * *

Please excuse the bad ending. I kinda ran out of steam on this fic, but I finished it! Now my mind is hung up on an idea for Dani… Oh well. Please review for another story finished! WOO!


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